Gift

Chapter Fourteen

Okay

Connor sat unusually quiet, brooding like a pro.  Angel stood near the door, now, looking ready to bolt down the hall if Connor decided to run from him.  Illyria was the only outsider then, but she stood abruptly.  She seemed to realize that she didn't belong in the conversation, or maybe she just wanted to find Wesley. 

"I will take my leave of you, half-breed.  I no longer wish to see your face."

"Good.  Because I don't want to see you anymore, either, Illyria."

Angel stepped away from the door so he wouldn't block her in.  For some reason, he was inclined to let her go.  He no longer felt threatened by the powerful demi-god.  She left and now all there was left to do was talk to Connor.

"Connor, I-"

"Am I a vampire, Angel?"

"No.  You're not.  You're human.  We never quite knew how that worked.  In fact, we were never really sure how Darla got pregnant with you.  I mean, we know how babies get here, but vampires aren't meant to have children.  We never found an answer to why you were conceived.

"I was so happy when I got you, though, Connor.  And it nearly killed me when Holtz took you away from me."

"Nearly killed you?  You're already dead."

Angel allowed a small smile to appear on his face.  Connor couldn't be too mad if he would make jokes.  Or maybe he wasn't really making jokes.  It was the truth.  Connor could be ashamed of him, just like he had been before.  He could distrust Angel; he had been lied to by Angel, after all.  Any emotion Connor was feeling at that moment would be completely justified. 

"Well, it about made me turn to dust, then."

Connor sighed and looked up at Angel.  Connor seemed so innocent for a moment, like he had grown up the way Angel had wanted him to.  Innocent and perfect.  He studied Angel closely, almost as if he were examining his face for character traits found in both of them.  He'd see that they had the same eyes, though Darla's color.  They had the same eyebrows and lips and they had the same look of eternal brooding on their faces at all times.  It was almost impossible not to see that they were father and son now that the fact was known. 

"What was my mother like?"

"Darla?  She was amazing and intoxicating and she loved you so much that she gave her life to bring you into the world."

Connor glanced away from Angel then, the look on his features tragic.  He seemed to be considering his whole world at the moment.  Connor bit his lip as he realized that no matter who he thought he was, he would never be able to return to being the happy, care-free college boy, son of the Johnsons, older brother to Elizabeth.  His whole life may change.  There was no way he could tell his family-his pretend family-who he really was.  It would tear the whole family apart and that wasn't what Connor wanted.  But he did want to know more about his true family, the ones who loved him so much that they gave him up.  Darla had staked herself for him and Angel had signed his life away to make sure Connor would be happy.  There was no way to describe how that made him feel. 

"I can't just be your son, Angel.  I have parents, already."

"I know that.  I've seen them."

"It would hurt my family if they knew the truth.  I'm not going to tell them."

"It's your decision."
"I'm still going to go to college and pretend to be Connor Johnson."

"Also your decision."
"But I know why you did what you did.  And I respect you for your choice."

"You never respected me before."
"I obviously didn't know you very well before."
"You don't know me well now."

"And I would like to change that.  I'd like to get to know you and the rest of the old Angel Investigations."
"I would love to find out more about you now, Connor, if you want me to."
"I used to be some kind of super demon fighter, didn't I?"
"Yeah, you did."

"Can I become one again?  I haven't lost my fighting skills, not really, so maybe I could help out here."
"You could be an intern."

"Cool."

As the conversation lulled, Connor remembered the look on Liberty's face when she'd found out Spike had been betraying her.  She was probably alone, crying to herself, and he should find her to help her.  She had helped him through this.  Things were clearer between him and Angel, so it was time for him to leave things at that, before he got confused again.

"I need to find Liberty.  She was pretty upset-"
"Say no more.  Go on."

Connor paused in the doorway as he remembered the ratty old room he'd visited.

"Angel, there was this room I remembered.  I went there one day after being here and I don't know what it was to me.  It was pretty disgusting, small and unclean, but what was it?"

"It was your apartment.  I had kicked you out of the hotel after my three-month sabbatical at the bottom of the sea, so you found your own place.  You and Cordelia lived there for a few months."

"Oh.  Thanks."

"I'll answer anymore questions you might have any time.  Day or night.  I'm up during most of both."

"All right."

"Tell Liberty we're having a staff meeting in a couple of hours.  I need to introduce everyone to our new intern."

Connor smiled for the first time since he'd entered Angel's office.  In fact, it was the biggest smile Angel had ever seen on his son's face.  It cemented his feelings that he'd done the right thing by Connor, even after the huge blow up in his office that very morning.  Connor left the room quietly and Angel watched him go.  Everything was going to be okay.  It was the first time he'd felt that since, well, since Connor had been born.

            Wesley was sitting in the dark once again.  He had found that the darkness and shadows appealed to him as of late.  He held a bottle of scotch in his hand, no longer worried about the glass.  He took a long swig before bemoaning his recent circumstances.  How Angel could look at him was beyond his comprehension.  He had betrayed Angel by stealing his infant son and Angel had forgiven him.  At least the scar on his neck now made sense.  Justine hadn't just been knife happy.  She had had a reason for slicing his neck nearly in half.  He had deserved it, as well.  Wesley took another long sip from the bottle as he wondered how long it would take him to fully numb his pain.  The door opened, letting a stream of light into the office, shining in his face.  Illyria's profile shadowed in the light, blocking his eyes from the intruding brightness.

"You have taken to the vile liquid again after the half-breed's words."

"Yes, I have." 

Illyria walked on into the office, shutting the door, blocking any lightness once more.  She stood before Wesley, her unusually blue eyes glittering with emotion.  Her eyes were glittering with emotion, a sight Wesley thought he would never see.

"Why do you like the amber solution so much?"

"It makes the pain go away, Illyria."
"The pain of losing the shell?"
"Amongst other things."

"When will you stop mourning the loss of the shell?"

"I don't know if I ever will."
"I will never be able to stop your mourning, either, if I wished it to be so."
"I don't think you could, Illyria, even if you wanted to.  I don't think anyone could."

Illyria seemed confused by his reply.  She always believed that Wesley would eventually be okay.  She had found that she cared for the lower being, as unorthodox as that was.  She was supposed to adapt into human society and she thought that with Wesley she might be able to.  She knew she sounded like a sniveling human, but it was the reality of her thoughts.  But seeing Wesley in this state made her wonder if that was the way it would be.  Humans put so much stock in their emotions and their attachments and half-truths that they spent most of their lives working for them.  It was almost enslaving, a thing Illyria would never stand for.  She was meant for great things, just as she had once been a great thing.  She would be great again as long as she didn't become enslaved as Wesley was.

"Why do you feel the need to lose everything because of your past?  Why do you not move on to the future and the greatness that could be for you?  Why do you dwell on useless feelings and attachments that mean nothing to you?  Why do you ponder past betrayals and losses?"

Wesley looked up at Illyria, unsure of a response.  She looked so earnest in what she was asking, almost innocent for a blue-haired demon.  She almost looked like Fred.

"It's our way.  We spend our time wondering what could have been, playing the what if game."

"If it is your way, I have no desire to lower myself to human status."
"You aren't above it, Illyria.  You've displayed human emotion, and not just curiosity.  You were hurt by my words at my apartment.  You simmered in your resentment of me."

Illyria tilted her head in that curious way that Wesley had come to adore, even if he would never admit it.  She seemed to be realizing Wesley's words and the reality of them. 

"You wish me to be the shell and I will never be her.  You think me a simple human you can mold but I am not."
"I don't want you to be Fred, Illyria.  You could never be her and you shouldn't want to be her.  You're far too different and interesting to wish to be Fred.  I loved her.  I loved her so much.  I never got my chance, my chance to be with her, to show her how much I loved her.  I wish everyday I would be able to.  But I won't.  Because Fred is gone.  Even while you stand here, in her form.

            "I don't wish to mold you, Illyria.  I want you to assimilate yourself into human society, but I don't want you to change completely.  I like you, Illyria.  There's no explaining it, but you have such a fresh perspective on everything.  I even like having you around."

"Then why do you drink the vile liquid?"

"Because sometimes it's not enough to just have you here.  Sometimes it has nothing to do with you."

"Will you please put the glass container down?"

"For now."

He set it on the desk carefully as Illyria edged towards him.  They were silent, staring at each other, as if they'd lost all train of thought and any ability to voice words.  Illyria finally picked up her book from the desk, where she had left it last.  She knelt in front of Wesley and handed it to him.

"Will you read the tale to me?"

"You like it?"

"The Little Prince is all right.  I remember the shell's enjoyment of the book.  I want to understand that."

Wesley smiled surprisingly, even as the memory of the last time he'd read the words flooded him.  Then he opened the book and began.

            Liberty had calmed down somewhat from the moment she had found out Spike had played the role of Judas.  She attributed most of it to Lorne's words.  She had remained in her office, waiting for Spike to find her.  He would, eventually, but he may be giving her some space.  If she hadn't talked to Lorne, she would have needed it.  But at the moment, she was kind of bored.  She didn't have anything to work on.  She didn't have anything to do, but think about what had happened earlier that day.  The kiss.  The confrontation.  It had been a fairly exciting day, a good one and a bad one.  She'd been on some extreme highs and lows.  Hopefully things would smooth out after this.  Or maybe things would be just as exciting as they had been since she started working at Wolfram and Hart.  There was no way to tell unless she consulted the psychics.  Finally, she heard a knock on the door.
"Come in."

"Liberty, before you throw a cross at me, let me explain some things to you."

Spike blurted it out before he had even come through the door.  He seemed a little skittish, as if he were expecting the room to be booby trapped with stakes, holy water, crosses and a little bit of garlic. 

"I'll listen, Spike."

"You will?"  He seemed surprised at her willingness to hear him out.  He must have been expecting her to give up some fight.

"Yes.  I talked to Lorne and he told me I should hear your explanation before I decided whether or not to kill you."

Spike offered her a charming smile before slinking to the desk.  He adjusted his duster as if preparing himself for quite a long speech.  Liberty tilted her chair back, ready to hear it, wondering if it would be eloquent or blurted out.  He was supposed to be a poet, so maybe she'd get some poetry out of it.

"I hated lying to you, pet.  I really did.  I felt guilty, probably worse than how I feel about the people I killed years ago, which is a lot."
"Not the best analogy, Spike."

"No, I guess it isn't.  But you have to understand something.  I found out about Connor and Angel told me why he'd done the brain mojo thing.  And I thought it made sense.  The boy was suicidal and homicidal.  Angel was trying to stop that, even if it wasn't the best method of goin' about it.  So I decided to help Angel protect the secret.  I thought it would be harder to explain it to everybody after the lengths Angel had gone to keep it a secret.  I went along with it.  And I agreed to tell him what you were digging up on the case."

"And so you became friends with me to spy on me for Angel."
"No.  We were already mates, pet."
"So you used our friendship?"

"Yeah.  I did.  Neither of us expected you to be so bloody good at your job, Liberty.  We thought you would just find dead end after dead end, which you did for awhile.  But then you found some of the puzzle pieces and started putting them together.  There was nothing I could do to stop it from happening.  I felt worse at telling Angel what you were finding, but it wasn't really hurting anything.  Angel couldn't do a whole lot to stop you from finding out what you were, so I wasn't really helping a whole lot.  I was just keeping him updated.  I felt horrible, though, because I knew I was betraying you.  You're one of the sweetest girls I've ever known.  I would have tortured you a good bit back when I was evil, I loved doing it to the sweet ones."
"And now I want to forgive you because you haven't tortured me?"

"No, I'm just messing up everything I'm telling you.  Sod it all, Liberty.  I wanted to tell you after you explained the whole situation to me last night.  But I couldn't.  I was too deep and there was no way to turn it back.  There's nothing I can do to change what I did and I'm not really the type to apologize.  I just needed to explain it to you.  If you still hate me, than I guess that's your problem."

He sounded cold at the end and he looked mad.  Little did Liberty know he was anxious inside.  He had butterflies in his stomach as unmanly and unvampiric as it was.  He really liked Liberty.  She was great fun to talk to and if she hated him, his conscience would probably have him jumping on a stake to rid himself of the guilt. 

"I understand, Spike.  I do.  I just really trusted you, Spike.  Of all the people I knew, I trusted you the most, more or less.  We were friends and I thought I could let myself go around you.  Then I found out that you'd been spying on us and lying to me and that was more than I could take.  I couldn't believe it.  But Lorne told me you would have a good reason and he was right.  I understand."

"So we're okay, pet?"

"We're okay.  I was thinking maybe we could go to Outback for that bloomin' onion thing again. It was pretty good."
"Almost as good as The Bronze's."

Liberty smiled and rolled her eyes at the comment.  "Whatever that is.  So are we on?"

"Yeah.  There's not much to do around here anyway, except bug the boss.  And even that gets a bit tiresome."

"Tomorrow?"
"Sure."

Liberty leaned forward and gave Spike a peck on the cheek just as Connor walked in.

"If I didn't know better, I'd be jealous."

Liberty grinned as Spike jumped up.  Being caught in a tender moment with Liberty wasn't exactly high on his list.  He had a reputation to uphold. 

"I'll see you later, love, you too, pint."

"At the staff meeting?  I don't know if you'd be invited, but you might as well be there."

"Trying to get under dear ol' dad's skin?"

"Something like that." Connor shot Spike a huge grin, knowing he'd probably be able to form a friendship with the peroxided vampire like Liberty had.

"I'll be there."